Caged- Amos Room, Guild of Students, University of Birmingham

‘Caged’ Review- Article 19- Saturday 23^rd March

From the day that Article 19 announced their auditions for 'Caged', I knew it would be a must-see show. The love story between the headstrong Jane Eyre and brooding Mr Rochester was one that I was intensely aware of, as one of my favourite novels, with a storyline that is regrettably becoming increasingly problematic by today's standards. Thus, I was thrilled to hear that Article 19 were taking the classic yet oppressive tale and adapting it to modern day, complete with new details, and the addition of an important new voice.

Charlotte Bronte's 'Jane Eyre' documents the life of its eponymous heroine, who suffers an abusive childhood growing up in her Aunt's prestigious household. After spending her teenage years in a repressive boarding school, she is employed as Governess at Thornfield manner. Despite the cheeriness of her housekeeper, Mrs Fairfax, Jane is intimidated by her cruel yet intriguing employer, Edward Rochester. As the weeks go by, she becomes increasingly infatuated with him, so much so that she begins to burn with jealousy for his society-approved love interest, the glamorous, conceited Blanche Ingram. She is quickly faced with the dilemma of whether to preserve her dignity and pride in resisting Rochester, or submit to her desires.

However, there is one key figure who Bronte leaves entirely out of the narrative- given a mention only when her status obstructs the marriage of Jane and Rochester, and for a second time- when she dies. Bertha Mason is Rochester's first wife, crudely forced into marriage for financial reasons and taken from her home in Dominica, to live a suffocating life at Thornfield with a man who does not love her. When her mental health deteriorates, she is imprisoned inside a small room in the attic, dismissed as mad- demonic, even. It wasn't until the 1960s that critics began to question the unfair representation of this 'madwoman in the attic', with Jean Rhys writing a prequel to Jane Eyre that explored Bertha's perspective. Article 19 have continued this legacy by creating a dramatization of Jane Eyre in which Bertha is the narrator, observer, and some might even say- heroine of the plot.

There was no definitive starting point to the play, as the audience walked in to find Bertha, portrayed by Flora Wilson-Brown, listlessly walking around the set, giving the effect that the audience were simply entering into her world. The Amos room was transformed into an eerie mansion, complete with cobwebs, haunting photographs and an aging piano. In the midst of this ghostly narrative, Bertha resided- barefooted in a faded white dress, blending into the atmosphere of decay. There was something very Miss Havisham about her appearance, however when she began to speak, it was with the savvy defiance of a contemporary woman. The rest of the cast sat reading, some of them integrated into the audience, and each holding a copy of Jane Eyre. Bertha's opening monologue sketched out Jane's traumatic past- in accordance with the first section of the novel- as characters began to frantically move around the stage. This was a production very aware of its source material- using the classic novel as a piece to both showcase and criticise.

As Bertha ended her monologue and sat cross-legged on the floor, now an unseen spectator of the action, Jane Eyre was introduced to the audience. Kalifa Taylor embodied the grounded, intelligent nature of Jane, unyieldingly sensible, yet fraught with worries. In a fascinating modern twist, she dictated her thoughts to a smartphone recording, documenting her experience tutoring Adele, but increasingly lurching into perplexing thoughts about Mr Rochester. When encountering other characters, the smartphone log was quickly hidden away, indicating her inability to share her innermost thoughts with others, for fear of rejection or ridicule. I think it was important that the production captured her vulnerability, as it made her moments of strength appear stronger than ever. It is also easy nowadays, in a society that increasingly demands strong female heroines, to forget that women are allowed to show emotion. Kalifa's Jane was certainly no caged bird, but she was still an emotional female, and I think that aspect of her character was just as valuable.

Contrasting her introverted manner was the outspoken Mrs Fairfax, with Lucky Clark transforming the originally marginalised character into a witty gossip. She busied herself re-arranging props and providing important details to the narrative such as information about Bertha, so that audience members who were not familiar with the novel were not left behind. The subtle use of props added symbolism to the play, such as the Christmas decorations tangled by Bertha, as her subtle way of intervening within Rochester's life.

When Jane met Rochester for the first time, I thought it was interesting that Bertha smeared the blood upon his palm, showing her to be in control of the action rather than simply spectating it. After using her cardigan as a bandage to bind Rochester's injured hand, Jane continued to wear the blood-stained cardigan for the duration of the play, suggesting that she becomes tainted by his destructive power. Eddie House's Rochester maintained the classic character's mysteriousness, yet with a laddish, modern edge that really seemed to work. Interacting with Jane, he initially appeared charming and witty, so that you almost found yourself torn between the version of himself that he seemed to present, and the violent, wicked version painted within Bertha's monologues. Yet, if Rochester was intoxicating at the start, he was repellent by the end, due to the force and integrity of the leading women.

In comparison with the two compelling heroines, Mia Harvey was brilliantly detestable as Blanche Ingram, sipping wine and turning her nose up at the likes of Jane. Her piano duet with Rochester was powerful, made better only if the pair had actually sung together. Alongside the action, Bertha's monologues were captivating, long in length but never boring, introducing new narratives to the detailed plot. For the majority of the play she remained unseen by the other characters, repeating certain lines in unheeded attempts to warn Jane. Yet, I felt that she was brought back into the main action at just the right moment- emerging to scatter matches across the floor. The way that the fire was discussed, as part of Bertha's longing for warmth, added humanity to her actions in a way that the novel never could. This corresponded with the climax of the novel, and the point in which Bertha is conveniently removed from the plot, yet in this production- her story was not yet over.

Rather than choosing to have Rochester disabled by the fire (a device in the novel which encourages pity and somewhat pathetically attempts to absolve him of all blame), he remained physically unscathed, contacting Jane after the accident to rekindle their relationship. It was almost excruciating to watch Jane attempt to resist his advances, knowing the inevitable ending of the novel, complete with happy white wedding. It just didn't seem right for the abusive tyrant to win- not in this world- not in any world. Honourably, Article 19 refused to succumb to convention- opting for a striking ending in which Jane reflects on the abuse suffered by Bertha, finds her own voice, and leaves Rochester. In the most powerful moment of the play, the boundaries of life and death, past and present were overcome as Jane ran over to embrace Bertha. This not only gave the last word to the two most important women in the play, but also acted as a metaphor for how we can build upon the legacy of those who have gone before us, keeping their memory alive by standing up to injustice.